Adventures in the women's bathroom : A male perspective (idea)

My uncle was a janitor. When I was a boy, around ten years old, I had a summer job helping him out on Saturdays. This usually involved cleaning a bank. Of course, he had me do the bathrooms. The women's bathroom was actually two rooms. Before the long room with the gleaming stalls, tampon dispenser, bright sinks and mirrors was a kind of drawing room with a couch, several armchairs, and a long flat piece of furniture like a bed but covered in leather. The men's bathroom was a row of urinals with puddles under them, stalls with broken locks, sinks and mirrors and arcane messages written with magic marker or scratched through the paint. I asked my uncle why the two were so different. He winked and said, "Women get cramps." Oh. So I said, "Oh." He chuckled and winked again. I got another bucket and some clean rags and went back to work. I have no idea what wisdom he thought he was imparting to me but...